Heroes can Survive Falls
by Addira
Summary: Sparrow had lost his wife and his child to Lucian five years prior. He has been unable to move on and finds himself in the same prison of grief that Lucian had gotten into. Is there any salvation for the Mayor of Bowerstone? Or is there someone from his past that can help him?
1. Introduction

_ Heroes can survive falls _

_ that would shatter the bones of most people_

Introduction

The Spire was destroyed. And on that day the hordes of supposedly dead men and women had washed up on the shore of Albion. All remembered being killed on the Spire and all had the vague recollection of a blind Seeress holding their hand as their life was returned to them. The mysterious event was traced back to the Hero known as Sparrow who spent his one wish at the Spire on that day two years before.

There was a statue issued, songs were sung, drinks had been raised. The people recognised the great sacrifice the Hero of Bowerstone had committed for the countless amount of people he had never met. All for the good of Albion he brought their dead loved ones back.

At great personal cost.

And there he was, two years later. At the Cock and the Lion, holding a generous amount of mead in his system, hanging onto a large mug of ale in his grip. The Mayor had drowned in his sorrows every year, that very day for two years since the Lucien's death.

Everyone knew why he was there, on that barstool. No one judged him on as he downed more ale down his throat. His red eyes surrounded by inflated skin, irritated by the tears his cheeks felt on that day.

His white hair stuck to his forehead as his shoulders slouched forwards; cradling the invisible wall he had constructed to prevent him from falling forwards and onto the Barman's floor. The people knew his story. How he sacrificed his youth to save a younger woman from the clutches of the dark society. How he once had a beautiful wife called Alex and a son that he loved more than anything. How his brave strong dog jumped in front of a bullet to save him, all for naught.

He had a new dog since then but nothing compared to the first.

The aging barman walked over to the Mayor and refilled his emptied mug, with a sense of camaraderie he reserved only for him. Lornan the Barman was known for being harsh and being ill tempered but he softened only for the Mayor.

The Mayor nodded as he drank some more. Their unspoken communication lasted only a few seconds but it was enough. The Mayor looked up at the man and answered his unspoken question.

His voice was harsh, it resembled the croak of toads more then actual human sounds. But he answered the silence with a number.

"Six." He answered. The barman's eyes saddened. "He would have been six."

He drank more from the mug in his hold as the Bowerstone Clocktower chimed twelve times.

"The time is – Very late!" the Towncrier announced. But the Mayor did not budge from his seat. Neither did any of the drinkers in the pub.

He heard a few murmurs as the age of his boy circulated amongst the people around him but all he could hear were the chimes of the clock. His mind began to wander. The chimes always reminded him of Lucien. The same clock chimed twelve when he had lost Rose on that horrid night as his journey to become a hero began.

Theresa had told him countless times that Heroes could survive falls that would shatter the bones of most people but he never truly understood how. His past was filled with his hatred for Lucien and it only amplified when his bullet went through his skull, ending his pompous speech. He could close his eyes and recall seeing Lucien's body falling down lower and lower into the heart of the Spire.

He was then filled with a satisfaction that was never rivalled since. But no matter how much ale he drank on that night, every year, he could never come to terms with his loss. His house still lay in shambles and in ruin, his wife and son's lives were still cut short and he failed his duty as a father, something that he vowed he'd never break.

So he drank. He drank until he couldn't think straight, every year for the entire day.

He knew he'd never find peace, knowing that the grief that had plagued Lucien would plague him just as strongly. He had lost Alex and Logan just as Lucien had lost Amelia and Lady Fairfax. The only difference was who pulled the trigger and who was left standing.

And the sole survivor of that plight was drinking away at the Cock and the Lion.

As the last chime stroke twelve the Mayor rose from his chair, with inhuman balance after so many drinks. He put his pay forward and the barman politely refused, pushing the money back into the Mayor's hands.

"Keep it mate. This night is always on me."

The Mayor nodded and slipped the gold back into his pockets. As he walked out of the pub he heard his dog get up from the floor with a sad bark. The large dog, named Tiny, walked over to his master and nudged his hand with his humid nose.

The Mayor only looked at the Tower screaming internal profanities that would never leave his mind or breach his lips. His gaze went past the Clocktower and into the distance where the Spire was raised high into the horizon.

He knew the Spire was extensively far but he felt like he could run into the ocean and swim to it in record time only to bash at its strong towering black walls in vain.

The cold of the muzzle from his dog brought him back to his state. He looked down at the dogs drooping eyes, the lowered ears, the still tail.

"Come on." He called, his hand petting the top of Tiny's head ever so slightly. His feet began the long trek back to his new home, Fairfax Castle.

Bowerstone was silent on that night, the people celebrating the sad day for the second time alongside him. No songs were sung, no uplifting comforts were said, they all grieved with the Mayor. It had been that way since the first year, it would likely never change either.

That day was a day of grief for all those that died to free Albion of its grieving tyrant. As he walked towards his castle all he could see were the faces of his fallen family. Rose, Alex, Charlie, his dog, Rose, Charlie, Alex, dog… he began realizing that he could no longer remember their voices. Their faces fading even… and there was nothing he could do.

He pushed the Castle doors open as he made his way inside, Tiny never leaving his side. His heavy steps were accompanied by the quickened steps of his dog as he walked ahead to great someone in the doorway.

"Hello there boy." Someone greeted, petting Tiny's head. There was a pause. "Welcome back Mayor." He greeted sadly.

The Mayor's eyes looked up briefly to see his close friend. His black hair twirling proudly at the ends of his moustache, his blundershot rifle strapped to his back, his mug hanging loosely from his ammunition belt.

"Walter." He said, his small smile going to his lips. No more words were said as he made his way further inside of the heart of the Castle.

He looked up once he entered the throne room, the back of his mind criticising the name of it. _Throne room_ implied that Lucien was stronger than just a Lord, stronger than a Mayor. His eyes fell onto the large wooden ornate chair, where the moon cradled it into a seemingly divine moonlight. He knew that people would pour in once morning set, and he'd be on that chair, answering their quarries, seeing to their needs as he had for the past years.

Too tired to even begin to think about his new responsibilities, he turned his attention to the staircase that would bring him up, and into his bedroom.

His bedroom was untouched when he had moved in. Lucien wasn't at the Castle much, if not at all, since he began the Spire project. It made for a seamless transition into Castle life, knowing that whatever was left behind didn't come from Lucien. Save for his study, which Sparrow still hadn't set foot inside of.

The draperies were changed to a dark purple, as were the sheets but a part from minor aesthetic changes it wasn't touched.

He didn't remove any of his clothing as he fell like a timbered tree onto his sheets. Tiny had jumped besides him on the bed and curled into a ball into his side.

The alcohol in his system and Tiny's slow breathing lulled him to sleep. Where he dreamt of the people he had lost.

\\OoO/ 

The fire was creaking from within the fireplace. It was late and she knew it. But he had promised in his letter that his arrival was to be on that night so she wrapped herself in the blanket and knitted on the rocking chair, basking in the fire's heat.

She fought the urge to sleep a thousand times before that point and was rocking herself out of habit. She had done the same thing countless times before as she waited for her husband to return home.

She heard heavy steps on the cobblestone path and was instantly wide-awake. It had been two weeks since she saw him last and she couldn't wait to see him again.

She rearranged her dress in a giddy haste and placed her braid back into its decent look. She knew she didn't have to prepare her appearance but she did it anyways.

She felt her heart flutter when her husband walked through the doorway and into their home.

"Welcome back handsome." She smiled, crossing her legs under her dress.

He looked up and his eyes immediately locked on hers. His cheeks were a little red from the wind and his hair a little bit dishevelled. She had long since gotten used to his new appearance and so was not startled by the deep red irises and the white hair that adorned his figure. But she had noticed that certain of his wrinkles had disappeared and a certain aspect of his youth was returned.

He stared at her for a few moments before taking three long strides and picked her up from the chair.

She giggled out of surprise and moaned when his lips came crashing onto hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rejoiced when his strong arms held her close.

He was just as warm as she remembered.

He kissed her lips passionately for a while before his lips trailed to her cheeks and the corners of her mouth. She smiled at his burst of loving appraisal and played with the tips of his hair.

"It's good to be home Alex." He whispered on her cheek, his nose hiding in the long strands of her blonde hair.

"It's good of you to have come back, Sparrow."

He sighed, content to hear her voice once again. There was nothing stopping him from resuming their more intimate reunion rites but he felt like something was off. There was a difference to that night that wasn't there before. A difference that Alex was unaware to.

He looked around the house and found what he was looking for.

"Staying up a bit later now are we Charlie?" he smiled. Alex's attention shot to the young boy hiding in the bars of the staircase. The boy smiled and tugged his purple blanket, a poor imitation of his father's cape, around his neck.

"I told you father, it's not Charlie it's _Logan_." He smiled running down the staircase and jumping into Sparrow's legs.

Alex smiled. "Why do you insist on calling him _Charlie_ Love?" She smiled into his chest, her head shaking from side to side in loving frustration. "You said that I could name him."

Sparrow let go of his wife as he reached down to scoop his son into his arms. Imitating a grunt with a large smile. "Because he's my little boy!" he smirked, Logan laughed as his father twirled him around in the air.

Alex smiled and took a couple steps back as Sparrow held onto Logan, beginning a conversation with his young son. Asking him questions about how many target he'd hit with his gun he'd gifted him, how many bullies he'd fought with, how many imaginary hobbes he had slain. She only smiled, as Sparrow seemed to reintegrate so easily into family life.

She was happy until she realised he'd have to leave again.

Sparrow put Logan down onto the hard wood floor, kissed his forehead and urged him to bed. Logan smiled and ran up the stairs to return to the bed he had abandoned.

Sparrow lost his smile when he turned to his wife's frown. He took a large step and cautiously gripped her waist. "Alex?" he asked.

She shook her head and put on a smile. It wasn't a forced smile but it wasn't entirely genuine either.

"It's nothing." She whispered. Her hands came up to his face and brought his head down to kiss his lips. "You're here now." She smiled.

Sparrow's smile diminished but remained. "I'm here now." He agreed.

But he wasn't there long. As the lights of his home dimmed and flickered shut. His memory continued to play around him but the structure slowly caved in. The screams of people were heard in his ears as his feet were routed to the ground. He looked down and saw the glyph that kept him there, standing. He looked up once more and instead of seeing his wife he looked down the barrel of Lucian's revolver.

"The last time I killed you, it tore my heart out. Of course you were only a child… but then … so was I."

He pulled he trigger and his vision went black, like it had two years prior.

_Death is not your destiny today little Sparrow…_


	2. 1 - Mayor of Bowerstone

Chapter 1

The Mayor of Bowerstone

The light shone bright into his room. He groaned as he chased the sleep from his thoughts. Tiny began shaking his tail at the prospect of his master's awakening. Sparrow opened his heavy eyelids and that stirred the gigantic dog to action.

Tiny sprang to his feet and started to lick the Mayor's face in excitement.

"Ugh Tiny stop." He moaned, a smile creeping at his lips. His hands shot up to defend himself as Tiny slowly pushed him towards the edges of his bed. Sparrow launched his arms around the dog and quickly wrestled him onto the floor with a huff. Tiny recovered quickly from the tumble but Sparrow was a little hazy still. It didn't take much for Tiny to spring up and attack the Mayor with his long slimy tongue.

"No!" he groaned, trying to protect his face from the dog.

"Good to see you awake sir." Someone said from the door.

Tiny stopped his assault knowing that he had won and barked as he twirled around Sparrow. The Mayor arose to his feet with a grunt and he straightened his attire.

"Good morning Jasper. I am right to assume that it is indeed morning?" he greeted, his voice regaining more of its former life, rather than the croaked feature it was the night before.

"Of course Sir. You awake naturally at eight o'clock. Every morning." Jasper nodded as he walked over to the partially shut draperies. He muttered something about his employees never properly shutting drapes but the Mayor didn't have any interest in listening.

Sparrow walked to the dresser and his gaze fell on his aging features. Granted he always looked old, he always looked old since the Shadow Court made him… well made him look the way he did, but he had found ways to rejuvenate his skin somewhat.

His gaping wrinkles were smoothed out, the pockets under his eyes were lifted, and the freckled spots on his skin were faded… Years of sleeping in the castle bed had done wonders to his aging appearance but Sparrow had started to notice that certain aging signs were returning. He knew he looked at least 60 but had the fitness and spirit of his true age. He was quite glad when Reaver explained that the Shadow Court really only needed the youthful appearance of the _victim_.

Sparrow took the leather strap from the drawer and tied his long white hair into a ponytail, but a few strands resisted the call to order and fell on his forehead, a few strands got stuck in his eyebrows and some got caught in his facial hair.

"—I assume that it is safe for me to assume so sir." Jasper finished, turning to the Mayor for approval.

Sparrow frowned and glanced towards Jasper. "I'm sorry, what?" He pushed away from the dresser, his attention falling to Jasper.

"I was reinstating that I hoped you'd remember the events for today sir. You're going to have to look your best. We have various visitors coming to the Castle in the afternoon." Jasper repeated. "And, as I was saying, I assumed that it was alright for me to plan two outfits for you to wear today sir." Jasper proudly strutted to the wardrobe that Sparrow had barely touched since he had bought the Castle.

"Two outfits? Jasper, you've outdone yourself." Sparrow smiled, or tried to.

Jasper gasped dramatically, making a show of bringing his gloved hand to his heart. "I never _outdo_ myself sir, I only serve to the best of my abilities and if those require me to pick out the best in your various garbs then I shall."

Sparrow smirked and walked over to the mannequins Jasper had set, his heavy boots echoing in the otherwise silent room. "Is this your way of saying that I need new clothes Jasper?" Jasper's dry humour always seemed to put him in a good mood. Regardless of the mood he was previously in.

"I am only insinuating that it was a hard task sir. But I'd never impose." He turned on his toes in sharp fashion. "I have put both suits on the mannequins sir. I will join you downstairs for breakfast." And he strutted out, deciding to leave the double doors open behind him.

Sparrow's smirk didn't last long when he looked at the suggested outfits Jasper wished him to wear.

One mannequin wore a blinding red petticoat that almost touched the floor with cufflinks the size of chains, with a ruffled undershirt that would put certain Kings to shame.

The other mannequin had a more modest look that seemed to whisper _I have so much more money than you do peasant_ but at least it had a decent overcoat. It almost looked military.

Sparrow smiled as he looked down towards Tiny.

"He expects me to wear these boy."

Tiny barked and rubbed his nose.

"I know. I don't even think these were mine. I have no idea how to put them on."

"If it's not a button or a belt you generally can't put it on anyway." Someone said from the doorway.

Sparrow turned to the voice with a smirk. "Yes well, I was raised with simple means and then lived on the road. I can hardly waste hours to get ready, can I?"

Walter chuckled as he leaned onto the doorframe. "Good to see you're feeling better today. I heard it was rather rough for you last night." He shrugged. "And by that I mean more so than usual."

Sparrow nodded solemnly. He had run into some... indiscreet personalities on his way to the Cock and Lion. Nothing he hadn't dealt with before. "It's just another year Walter." He said curtly, walking over to the modest mannequin, removing his grey coat on the way.

"Sparrow… I meant to ask you…" Walter started, rubbing the back of his neck as he pushed off of the doorway. "I'd be blunt but it's a sensitive subject for you." He admitted.

"It's about them isn't it." He answered, his voice falling into a dull political tone. He picked up the military overcoat and swung it around his shoulders.

"It's about the Rebuilder's Society."

Sparrow stopped his dressing. A sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head. "They have returned already?"

Walter nodded. Even though Sparrow couldn't see his nod he knew he had done it. The Mayor turned to the soldier and arranged the cuffs of his sleeves. "Tell them that I still haven't changed my mind." He looked up at Walter, the perfect portrait of expressionlessness. "They are not to touch the house or they will have to deal with me. The guard stays."

Walter nodded. "I'll head down to tell them. I know you get grumpy if any more business happens before you have something in your stomach." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bright red apple, almost as red as the assaulting coat Sparrow stood next to. "Here." He threw the apple to the hero, who caught it with a single hand without eye contact. "Don't take to long. And remember, the rabbit goes…"

"Shut your gap Walter. I know how to put on a tie." Sparrow snickered, waving him away. "I'll see you downstairs."

Walter walked away with a smile. Sparrow could hear the heavy steps becoming more and more quiet as he turned to the modest mannequin. He debated whether or not he would put on the rest of the suggested attire but shook his head when he noticed the ridiculous softness of the felt on the pants. He ignored the pants and the large bird-like hat but took the boots. He grabbed the tie with hesitant hands and once it was around his neck he held the ends of the fabric with a sudden dumbed realisation.

"The rabbit goes where again…?" he mumbled. Tiny sighed.

\\OoO/ 

Walter snickered when the Mayor entered the kitchens without a tie. He shot a look to the soldier that could loosely translate to _don't you dare say anything if you want our friendship to last_. He smiled as he waved a server over before leaving the kitchen, to clean his weapon or to do what ever he did in the morning, Sparrow didn't truly know what Walter did in the morning. For all he knew he tended to his moustache for hours on end.

The cooks and servers were running around the Mayor trying to get everything prepared for him, yet were blind to the fact that the Mayor didn't care much for presentation in the morning.

The only time he ate with presentation with menus and fancy dishes was when he was expected to and when he had _guests_, and the only guests he ever had were the people he was expected to accommodate.

So in the morning Sparrow just waltzed into the kitchens and sat down at the island in the middle of the preparation line.

"Good morning Mayor." One kitchen maid had cheeringly greeted. She leaned over on the counter and whispered. "You are right on time for the Chef's rant." She paused for a moment before taking a sheet of paper from the front pocket of her apron. "And Jasper asked me to hand this to you. He said it was the Guest list for today."

Sparrow smirked briefly and replied with equal volume. "Good. Thank you Sally." He took a quick look at the list of names and frowned. "There are many names today." He grumbled to himself.

Sally smiled sympathetically. "Mayor… that's just the morning list. The evening names are on the other side of the page."

Sparrow looked up, his eyebrows raised. He turned the page slowly and saw even more names than he thought could ever fit on paper. "Thank you." He added to his sigh.

Sally nodded and straightened her white apron with haste before she set off into the depths of the kitchen to do her typical morning chores.

Sally was one of the typical staff that Sparrow had picked within the first year of his dwell at the Castle. When he moved in there was a serious lack of staff and crew to maintain it and when Sparrow took on the title and duty as _Mayor_ people started to expect things from him.

Such as decent people and a maintained Castle.

Sparrow's staff mostly came from the streets or were _convicts_, according to the Lucien's regime of law, and he had offered each and every one of them their jobs personally. Sally was fired from her previous job because of a particularly bratty aristocrat had complained about her performance in their kitchen. They all had similar stories but the only thing that they had in common at the time was their state of unemployment. They had all since learnt the schedule of the Mayor and had all been accustomed to his strange customs.

Such as his tendency to attend the Chef's meeting in the morning.

The Chef was a burly man; he had arms the size of small children and the booming voice of a troll. He had large tattoos running down the sides of his arms and the moustache that put Walter to shame on numerous occasions but he had not a single hair on his head. He held onto his clipboard with authority and cleared his throat to begin his usual speech.

"Alright listen up!" The clattering of kitchen tools came to a screeching halt. "Today we have many visitors coming in to see the Mayor and we need to be quite _top_ if we are to service them all. As you know the Mayor wants all visitors to be offered the option of food, considering they stand in line to see him for a considerable amount of time. Brenda, you are in charge of today's refreshments. If something goes wrong you better be expecting me to come to you, make sure nothing goes wrong." Brenda nodded.

"Bryan you keep an eye on the Meat Twins, make sure they don't get carried away with the big knives. This isn't a show but it will be if one of them loses an arm. Nobody wants the twin's blood on his or her food it's just not right and we can't add that to the menu. We checked; it can't be done." He shot a look to the twins and they both nodded in unison. "Sally, before I start telling all these useless magnanimous workers how to work in _my_ kitchen, get the Mayor something to eat before he feeds the nobles to the hobbes."

Sally smiled and turned to the Mayor. "I guess he's cutting off your show early today." She shrugged.

The Mayor smiled and made his way to the Dinning Hall, where he'd meet his first speakers of the day, but ultimately there would be food.

\\OoO/ 

Sparrow could feel his head throbbing within the hour. The food hadn't helped like he had hoped it would when the loudest of his aristocrats came by for a visit.

Sir Wilfred and Lady Laureen of Bowerlake.

He couldn't have been happier to see their brightly coloured clothing leaving the dining hall from where he sat. When he took the duty of the Mayor he knew he'd have to deal with the nobility but he never knew just how tenacious they were if there was something they wanted, from requests for the growth of purple-only flowers in the Bowerstone Market to the reduction of the taxes towards Albion's _upmost and most revered fundraisers._ Which he always refused, seeing as he owned most, if not all, of Bowerstone's buildings and homes, he had worked for that investment money and he would tax the people based on what price their home was stated at and not what they had as income. But that didn't stop the nobility from trying to reduce their expenses towards what they owed the Mayor.

Sir Wilfred and Lady Laureen wanted to rename the region of Bowerlake to Millfields. What for, he didn't quite understand, but he quickly agreed to sign the official letter if Lady Laureen promised never to utter the phrase "_But Mayor! It is of the utmost importance!"_ ever again.

He took a glance at the guest list for the rest of the morning, and his gaze stopped instantly.

How he had missed that particular name was beyond him, but he knew he would hear from him again eventually.

Before Sparrow could even look up the doors swung open. The guards were yelling "Sir! You can't enter yet! You are scheduled for a later time!" But the flamboyant entity curtly waved in disapproval.

"I enter when I wish, _Reaver_ does not _wait_." He shut the door with a swing of a cane, never changing his posture whilst doing so. "I'm quite surprised I even bothered with putting my name forwards on this schedule of yours."

Sparrow smiled as he looked up. "Reaver." He greeted. "Honestly I don't know what you were thinking." Reaver ignored Sparrow's comment and began with his flamboyant ways.

"I daresay the rumours are terrible if this is what you really look like. You might want to visit your people more often Mayor, they are starting to think you to be a dragon."

He rose an eyebrow. "A dragon?" He crossed his arms, incredulous. "I doubt that."

"I'm only repeating what I've heard, Mayor." He said as he did a small curtsy and then walked over to Sparrow, with the clacking sounds of his heels echoing in the hall.

"I must admit the Castle looks much better than it did two years ago. I meant to visit but I was needed… elsewhere."

"And I never wish to know what occupies you Reaver." He winced as he remembered all the things he'd read about Reaver's recent activities. "And I will say the same thing I should have said two years ago, leave me out of it." He waved off the two guards who were ready to apprehend Reaver for his unauthorised entry; they slowly sulked back into the Throne Room. The door closed and it muffled the rising noise that came from the Hall.

"To the contrary Hero, I believe you'd want a part in this." Reaver paused and chuckled, swinging his cane around to rest in his armpit. "Would you think I'd come all this way if it wasn't worthwhile?"

"Then why is this something you need me for?"

"Because Albion requires something of you and I believe I can help you achieve it."

Sparrow remained quiet, but unwillingly eager to hear what Reaver had to suggest. He knew Reaver had a good sense of business partnerships, unless he shoots his partner, but he knew that Reaver would know better than to shoot a hero.

Reaver removed his white glove and reached into the fruit bowl and took a few red grapes, he fiddled them between his fingers and began to speak.

"During my time in Bloodsone, I've heard some pretty… unsavoury things. Bandits are crowding the coast, the Crucible shut down due to the increase in pre-game deaths and the constant ambushing of the local Hobbes, the market is exceptionably low in the western lands. This is affecting your profits as Mayor of Bowerstone, seeing as you profit from well, _profits._"

Sparrow remained silent, Reaver moved on. "Now you are wondering why this would concern me. Well, I have a certain interest in profits if I can somehow take part in it and, I have a solution for your particular drawback."

"And this is you assuming that I need the money Reaver."

"Everyone needs money Hero, you just need to find out how to spend it." He squished the grape. He walked closer to Sparrow. "What I suggest is giving what Albion wants most."

"And what is that Reaver?" He asked, leaning back into his chair.

"Give them innovation. Invention! Give them prosperity! Modernise the Bowerstone of today to become a beacon of strength and brilliance! Broaden your ambitions Hero, make Bowerstone the gleaming jewel of Albion as it was always meant to be! You will need inventors, great thinkers, and charismatic speakers for a project like this is and that is why I am here."

Sparrow remained silent once more.

"I propose that you formally sign a contract with _Reaver Industries_ and we can work together to make Bowerstone the largest and most technologically advanced city of Albion." He paused. "Of course, seeing as you are the man of authority here you'd have the final say in all matters of law and say, _employee taxes,_ but that's entirely up to you, I'm just throwing ideas around."

"You are suggesting that I expand Bowerstone and lay down an… Industrial Sector?"

"Why yes, as you so eloquently put it. I was going to call it the _Reaver Quarter_ but, once again, that's up to you."

"And why would the people rally under this idea? Other than the promised fame and growth that it offers them, why would they want this change?"

"Because you can give them what they crave most, not just Bowerstone but what Albion needs most. And to give the people what they crave most Bowerstone needs to be greater than it is now." He leaned in towards the Mayor, offering him the other red grape. "If you make Bowerstone the city of Heroes you'll have a fitting city that can grant their final wish." He smiled as Sparrow took the grape from his open palm.

"You can give them a King."

\\OoO/ 

Logan was throwing rocks and pebbles into the Bowerstone River when he heard a familiar bark. His head shot upwards as he heard the running of a friendly dog he knew very well.

The blond aging dog jumped towards Logan and began to lick his face vigorously. Logan could do nothing but smile and bat the dog away from his face unsuccessfully. When the dog yielded, Logan pat his head for a few moments before running to the market place. "Come on boy!" he called, the dog, who was the same height as the five-year-old child if not taller, followed him.

"Father!" Logan called as he saw his father arrive in Bowerstone's Market.

Sparrow wore his typical clothing, his unbuttoned brown long coat, his bright yellow gipsy shirt and his big black boots. His weapons swayed from side to side as he walked. But the most important piece of clothing Sparrow wore, according to Logan, was his dark purple cape that he told his son was useful in colder climates.

"Father!" Logan called again, running towards him. Sparrow didn't hear him as he turned towards the vegetable vendor and discussed business things. Logan pouted and ran up to his father and waited patiently for the adult conversation to end. Sparrow began laughing as the vendor probably said something that Logan couldn't understand just yet.

'_Adult humour._' He thought bitterly, his patience dwindling. The dog whined beside him, accentuating his little human's need for his father's attention.

Eventually Sparrow ripped his eyes off of the man before him and went to his son. His smile broadened as he bent down and scooped up his five year old.

Logan began laughing as Sparrow spun him around.

"A grand warrior comes to greet me!" His father beamed.

Logan threw his small arms around his father's neck in a short hug before he pushed himself off insisting to show his father something very important.

"Come on Father!" he pleaded, pulling at his hand with all his strength.

"We'll have to resume this conversation tomorrow Peter." Sparrow said to the vendor as he let himself be pulled away from the stall. The vendor smiled and nodded. "Of course Sparrow."

Sparrow's smile returned to Logan, as well as his attention, and he asked, "What is it that you need to show me Charlie?"

"_Logan_ Father." Logan insisted. "And it's a surprise." He pulled Sparrow to their house, the last one at the end of the street, past the stonecutter's stall.

Logan pushed the door open with both hands before rushing inside, hearing his father's steps behind him. Sparrow looked around for a second before asking his son id Alex was home.

"No Father. She's with Susan right now." He turned to his father and stole his hand once more. "Come!" he smiled.

Logan pulled his father all the way up the stairs and he ran to his toy box. He rummaged through a few objects before pulling out some purple fabric. "Wait…" Logan froze. He looked towards his father, and hid the purple cloth with his body. "Don't look!" He ordered. Sparrow laughed as Logan's little hands tried desperately to cover his vision while his other hand was busy hiding the purple cloth.

"Well do you want me to see it or not?"

"Not yet! I forgot to do something." Logan smiled when his father finally closed his eyes.

"Alright. They are closed." Sparrow smiled.

Logan quickly swung the purple fabric around his body and tied two extremities together around his neck. He placed some of the fabric around him and nodded when he was satisfied.

"Ok. Open your eyes."

Sparrow's eyes opened slowly and his smile faltered when he saw what Logan was so excited to show him.

Logan pulled his smaller cape over his shoulders and turned from side to side. "Mother helped me make it." He announced proudly.

Sparrow's smile slowly crept back, as Logan's excitement got higher.

"One day I'll be a Hero too. And when that day comes I want to be ready."

Sparrow tried to be as excited as Logan but all he could think was how to save his son from becoming a Hero.

\\OoO/ 

A/N: So here's the first chapter. I hope it is to your liking so far. I have a couple things planned as you can see.

Not every chapter has a flashback at the end but they are there for a reason (mainly to provide some more backstory, seeing as Sparrow really doesn't talk about his past much so the only way to get any information out of him is throughout his unspoken thoughts. Yet, as you've noticed in the intro, even those can be corrupted and turned into nightmares.)

Also, some of the major changes that I've made are Logan's age at the time of his death and the eclipsed time since Lucien's demise at the Heart of the Spire.

Instead of five years it's two.

And Logan isn't 8 he is 6.

For reasons.

If you are worried that Sparrow will become whiny, or _pull an Isildur_ when it comes to Lucien, don't be. Sparrow is a quiet sufferer; he deals with his troubles internally but doesn't hate his problems to obsession like most.

In the next chapter I bring forth a very important OC. I say OC but really she's in the game, her name doesn't change when you meet her in game but she doesn't really have a personality other than 'frightened girl'. So I toughen her up a bit.

You'll get what I mean.

_(Writing Reaver and Jasper is hard…I need to find me a thesaurus for the Charismatic and Enthused.)_


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